


Light One Candle

by AuditoryCheesecake



Series: Buzzfeed AU [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Destructive Cat, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hanukkah, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuditoryCheesecake/pseuds/AuditoryCheesecake
Summary: Dorian and Bull's first Hanukkah living together, featuring Uthemriel the cat and gravity.(A brief holiday interlude between the events ofYou Won't Believe What Happens NextandWhat Happens Next)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title lifted from one of my favorite Hanukkah songs growing up (emotional content not so much)

When Dorian had his apartment to himself, he’d maintained a somewhat minimalist aesthetic. With a few personal touches, like his books, like the art on the walls that he’d brought with him from Tevinter to Orlais, from Orlais to Ferelden, like the couch that Felix criticized every time he saw it.

When winter came, Dorian liked to clear the windowsill of all coffee cups and magazines, and set his menorah in the very center of it as soon as his neighbors across the street started putting up their Christmas trees.

It was a somewhat stark and angular hanukkiah, made of glass and stainless steel. Very modern, very sleek. He’d chosen it for the simple and elegant silhouette it presented. It was nothing like the lumpy ceramic grade-school project tucked lovingly in Livia and Alexius’s closet back home. Every year since he’d gone to college in Orlais, they’d sent him a picture of it, next to Felix’s far superior product from the same class, lit and shining cheerfully.

Once Bull moved in, the apartment felt quite a bit fuller– it had to, with two people and all the things that neither of them could bear to part with.

He’d thought about taking Bull shopping, finding their menorah. But despite living together, and then being engaged, and then adopting a kitten together, he’d never brought it up. Bull seemed perfectly happy to stand next to Dorian and listen to him sing the bracha, just like he did on Friday nights and other holidays.

Urthemiel, similarly, liked to watch the candles. She was an inquisitive cat, when she wasn’t charging through their little apartment at top speed and pouncing on any foolishly bare foot that crossed her path. She loved sitting high up and observing everything from the top of the refrigerator, or bookshelf, or windowsill. 

Usually, the Shabbat candles stayed on the dining table, where she wasn’t allowed in any case. They’d never encroached so far into her space. So there was some contention, when Dorian saw the trees going up in other windows and dusted off his shiny, rather fragile menorah and shooed her away from the sill. She observed him intensely later that week, when he opened his box of candles and put the first two carefully in place. When he stepped away, Urthemiel trotted across the living room to hop back up and sniff them.

But it was fine. She licked her nose and went to wind around Bull’s ankles and trip him when he didn’t share any of the sandwich he was making.

The trouble happened that night, after Dorian had recited the blessings and lit the candles. 

Small a thing as it was, the light of the candles flickering always took him back. Hanukkah was about family for him in a way that the other holidays often weren’t. From the very first year that he’d spent with them, Gereon and Livia went out of their way to make him feel welcome in their home. Now, he was building a family of his own– not children, of course, not yet. But fiance and cat? That was a good start.

He was about to tell Bull about the first night he and Felix had been allowed to light the candles on their own menorahs when Uthemriel jumped up onto the windowsill.

There was a tense moment. She stuck out a single paw and Dorian took a step towards her.

“Don’t you dare–”

The menorah crashed the floor and shattered, candles skittering in opposite directions.

One rolled onto the carpet, still burning, and Bull snatched it up before it did any damage. The other went out when it hit the ground, and Uthemriel had disappeared into the bedroom by the time Dorian did more than grab it.

“Shit?” Bull offered after a moment.

Dorian smiled ruefully. “I guess so. Did you get that new broom you were talking about? Seems like it’s time to take it for a test run.”

And so one of Dorian’s first genuinely independent purchases was swept up into a sparkly little pile and disposed of. Bull went over the spot with the vacuum, because he was worried about Uthemriel’s paws. Which Dorian did not begrudge– much. The cat wasn’t the only one who walked around barefoot.

Bull went into the bedroom after he stuffed the vacuum back in the closet. Dorian could hear him murmuring quietly to Uthemriel through the wall as he cleaned up after their dinner and curled up on the couch. Another one of his early furnishing purchases, it was more aesthetic than comfortable. Bull had heaped a good two thirds of his pillows on it, which didn’t do much more than draw attention to how difficult it was to make a white leather loveseat feel _cozy_.

He wasn’t really in the mood to wallow, but he had been looking forward to sharing the holiday with Bull. Cooking together, watching the lights, teasing Bull for his pronunciation of the prayers– things he’d done the last time he’d had someone to celebrate with. So, wallow? No. Brood? Perhaps a little.

He sat alone with his book for about twenty minutes, and didn’t read even that many sentences, before Bull came back into the room. He brought his laptop with him, and dropped a quick kiss onto the top of Dorian’s head before he sat down.

“So,” Bull said, and Dorian closed his book, because that tone meant it was a Conversation. “I looked it up, and we have those little teacandles so that should work for tonight. But I wasn’t totally clear on what’s kosher for this stuff. Because there’s some awesome ones out there.”

“Awesome whats?” Dorian looked at the screen of the computer that Bull sat in his lap. The open tab was a google image search for “cool menorahs.” There were other tabs: “dragon hanukkiah” and “diy menorah”.

“I like this dinosaur one,” Bull said, scrolling down the page, “but there are some classic pieces here that might be more your speed.”

Dorian looked at Bull’s face, but he was staring at the computer with determination. “Dragons?” he asked, instead of something more confrontational.

Bull grinned at him briefly. “Worth a shot, right?”

“You tried.” Dorian kissed his cheek. “Click that one, it’s pretty– actually, no. It’s two hundred dollars, it’s hideous.”

“A bit outside our budget,” Bull agreed. He clicked on another link. “How about this? Forty’s not too expensive.”

“It’s certainly very… heart-shaped,” Dorian said. 

“Too cheesy?”

Dorian considered it. “Keep the tab open. Let’s see what else is out there.”

Uthemriel hopped up on the back of the couch and butted Dorian’s face, purring loudly. “Are you sorry?” he asked, scratching her under the chin.

“Doesn’t really look like it,” Bull said cheerfully. “Okay. Which of these do you like best: tree of life, hearts, or these bad-ass curlicues?”

“I like the tree design,” Dorian admitted. “But– I want this to be your decision too.”

“Aw.” Bull tweaked his nose. “You wanna make me feel included.”

“Yes!” Dorian could feel his cheeks heating up. “I want you to feel like we’re– you know. Doing this together.”

“This?” Bull’s smile was growing.

“I’m getting the tea lights,” Dorian said, and stood up, dumping the laptop back on Bull.

“Which menorah do you want, though?” Bull called after him.

“Surprise me,” Dorian said.

They put Uthemriel back in the bedroom when they lit the second round of candles. She wasn’t happy, but Dorian was touched that Bull was the one who carried her and endured the most scratches.

“I got the tree.” Bull stood behind him, holding him close. “In rose gold. Should get here by Tuesday.”

Dorian twisted around to smile up at him. The candles, the only light in the apartment for the moment, cast flickering shadows on his face. “I’m sure it will be beautiful.”

“We should send pictures to your family,” Bull said. He leaned down to kiss Dorian. “Can we bring it with us, if we visit them?”

“Of course,” Dorian said. “It’s ours, isn’t it?”


End file.
